


Famous Last Words

by Sinclaironfire



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Cecil, Bad Things Happen To Carlos, Carlos-centric, Cecil Has Tentacles, Drama Llama, Eldritch Abomination Cecil, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, Happy Ending, Hospitalization, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Blame Tumblr, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Obsession, Oh My God, Protective Cecil, The Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-26 19:12:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3861442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinclaironfire/pseuds/Sinclaironfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos goes to observe the tiny city at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. Things do not go well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time in the fandom. I jumped into it really awkwardly and I'm all over the place. Whatever, Carlos and Cecil are already in a relationship, living together, and such when Carlos goes to observe the tiny city at the bowling alley. Slight divergence from canon with more drama and fluff.

Science was stupid, Cecil decided.

Science experiments were also extraordinarily stupid too, Cecil thought.

Science in any way shape or form was stupid when Carlos was the one sticking his neck out, in some vague attempt to discover or unveil whatever hellish horror that festered underneath their quaint arid town.

But that was Carlos.

The delicate dark skinned hero (he may say that he isn't a Hero but a mere humble Scientist, whose only desire was to find out what causes the strange goings on in Night Vale, however, rest assured dear readers, Carlos the Scientist is in fact a Hero) had offered up his knowledge of science and skill for this particular venture. That is to say, Carlos was the only person who offered any sort of knowledge other than that asshole with the feathered headdress.

"It'll be a fun experiment!" He said with a boyish grin. His perfect hair eclipsing his lovely chocolate brown eyes.

_Fun._

Tramping down lane five at the bowling alley to observe a bustling micro-city near the pin retrieval does not sound like anyone's definition of fun, Cecil staunchly thought. His tattooed arms crossed over his slim chest, slightly ruffling his purple and white sweater vest. "Do you have to?"

Carlos rocked back on his dirtied and worn casual black shoes. "...no." Came his hesitant reply. "I don't have to but I _am_ a Scientist." He grinned and showed off his perfect straight and white teeth. "It's my job."

Cecil remained quiet and watched his beloved Carlos grab the necessary supplies to explore the micro-city ten feet below lane five. Rope, flashlight, danger lab coat with extra pockets, and a small black handheld radio.

Cecil furrowed his brow, “Why are you bringing that old thing?” He doesn't dare show that he hopes that his dear beloved Carlos might-

“So I can listen to you, of course.” Carlos said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Oh, how his heart swells with joy. His heart did back flips and front flips and a million other aerial feats that the human heart should not do but does so anyway when properly stimulated. But he plays it cool, or at least as cool as Cecil can play it. He came up behind Carlos, raking his hands through the man’s lovely locks, and pulled him into a hug.

“I love you.” He mumbled into Carlos’ thick but warm lab coat.

Carlos wrapped his callous but soft hands around Cecil’s. He sighed but lovingly accepted the hug. Cecil, the dashing and smooth speaking radio host, considered for a moment whether or not to pull his brilliant Scientist of a boyfriend into the bedroom for a quick snuggling session. His long and nimble fingers brush against the buttons of Carlos’ flannel shirt, easily undoing the first few buttons. For only a few seconds, it felt like hours, Cecil dreamed of him and Carlos, their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace.

“No, Ce, I-I can’t.” Carlos released Cecil’s hands from his grasp. “I would love to but I can’t.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” Cecil managed to summon enough of a pout.

“Didn't have to.” Carlos’ gaze went straight to Cecil’s trousers. He’s half-erect and beginning to tent.

“Oh…” A devilish grin spread across Cecil’s face. “Help me work this off?” He boldly offered.

Carlos playfully rolled his eyes. “I hear cold showers help with that.”

Shoulders slumped in defeat, Cecil moaned. “You’re cruel.”

“And you’re going to be late for the broadcast.” Carlos fondly reminded him.

Ah yes, the daily broadcast. What would his adoring audience do if he, Cecil Palmer, were absent from his daily broadcast? Without his velvety voice sprinkling helpful reminders and tips to avoid death, maiming, and horrible dis figuration the town would surely crumble into an anarchy.

“My people need me, I must go.” Cecil sighed, tossing on his black on violet glasses. “Be careful, okay?” He blew a kiss and Carlos laughed that wonderful laugh of his that sent shivers up Cecil’s spine. He could spend all day listening to Carlos laugh, talk about science…but the broadcast…he could not deny his listeners their right to news.

“I’ll be fine.” Carlos said just as Cecil was almost out the door. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Famous Last Words.

 

Sitting in his booth and occasionally taking sips from his coffee cup, Cecil drew his listeners in. As though he were a spider, Cecil weaved his web and one by one the citizens of Night vale fell under his spell. From the secret police to Old Woman Josie and her angels, they listened intently.

Cecil, ever the wordsmith, took another sip and relaxed. He knew that Carlos was listening to him as he braved the unknown that was the lane five micro-city. Deep down, Cecil knew that Carlos would be fine. They’ve faced hell and high water. They faced Street Cleaning Day. A bowling alley couldn’t be too dangerous…but then again…this was Night Vale.

Nothing was as it seemed.

“And now dear listeners, the weather.”

He turned off the microphone and leaned back in the comfy black chair that station management had decided to give him. It had only cost the station three interns who were, unfortunately, vaporized on the spot for banging said chair against the station management’s door.

But that was the way things were.

The station management was not to be trifled with.

The weather segment was over with and Cecil, drew back his listeners in or he would of if the newest intern hadn’t come barging into his booth. It was Dana. Or perhaps it was Dana’s doppelganger or maybe it was both. It was difficult to know at this point. Did they even exist, Cecil mused. Once more his thoughts turned to his own existence. It was a very real possibility that everything he saw was a figment of his imagination. He could be in a loony bin somewhere, trapped in a straightjacket, constantly rambling on and on about the oddest things that his sick mind could invent.

Cecil greeted her with a pleasant smile. He stood up, holding his microphone, prepared to pull Dana into the show. His dear listeners appreciated surprised guests. However, the sheer look of panic in Dana’s eyes alerted Cecil that this interview would not go well.

“Station management?” Cecil mouthed to the panicked intern.

She shook her head. With trembling hands she lifted up a piece of paper. On the paper, the words _Breaking News, Bowling Alley, Disaster._

Cecil’s heart lodged itself into his throat, robbing him of speech, as he saw the last word on intern Dana’s paper.

_ Carlos.  _

Cecil’s third eye flew open. Fear surged through it as the thought that his dear beloved Carlos could be dead or hurt while his normal eyes struggled with the idea that something horrible could befall Carlos. Cecil’s legs went weak. He supported himself on the table, knocking over his coffee as he did so. It took Cecil a second to recover from his shock before he steeled himself.

“Dear listeners, we are about to try something new on our humble radio station.” He forced the words out. He gallantly kept his professionalism. “We will be taking you to the scene of a breaking news story and talk-“

Intern Dana shook her hands wildly in the air. Pure heartbreak radiated from her as she shakily handed a single piece of paper.

“I’m so so sorry.” She mouthed to him. Intern Dana then quickly exited the room, unintentionally slamming the door on her way out. Gentle sobbing could be heard outside. Cecil, the Voice of Night Vale, was filled with an unspeakable dread. His eyes scanned the script that he was just handed and Cecil’s world ended.

“Oh…” He whimpered.

“A truly fearful thing has happened listeners.” He said breathlessly. “Carlos, standing triumphantly in the toy scaled city, was at-attacked by tiny people using projectiles and explosives.” Cecil felt paralyzed as he bravely went on. “He fell back to the side of the small hole in the pin retrieval area of lane five.” Cecil’s voice broke. “Blood…welled through his shirt. And here I am, stuck in my booth. Useless. Only able to narrate and not to help.” He could see it all in his mind’s eye, his third eye. Carlos, struggling not to crush anyone as he came under fire from the tiny citizens of the micro-city. Carlos, shouting out and crying in pain as he was assaulted. “He staggered, fell to hi-his knees…so much blood.” Why Carlos? Why did it have to be Carlos? “He-He collapsed completely.” Tears threatened to come and Cecil let them. Sorrow turned to anger. “Curse this town that saw Carlos die.” Cecil bitterly declared as his frame shook with tears. “Curse me. Curse it all.” He breathed heavily, tears falling freely now.

“Let us take a moment to…” His voice failed him. “Let us…take this moment…” He had to try, for his listeners and for Carlos. “Ladies and gentlemen, let us mourn the passing…”

The word didn’t do Carlos justice. Not a passing but the sudden and violent death of Night Vale’s most beloved citizens whose death will forever be kept in the hearts and minds of Night Vale’s citizenship.

“…I can’t.” Cecil cried into his microphone. “I can’t…”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil rushes to Carlos' aid. Hospital fluff dead ahead.

The Night Vale Community radio was playing nothing but ads since the news that Carlos the Scientist had suddenly died only hours ago. Cecil, the Voice of Night Vale, was silenced. He was hunched over his booth, sobbing quietly. He only rose when it was necessary to play the next ad or prerecorded message.

There was a hole in his heart.

The hole was as black as his tentacles and deep as Radon Canyon. Cecil knew that he would never be happy again. What was life without Carlos? Cecil frowned. He had a life before Carlos. Cecil had lived through rough breakups and bad relationships but Carlos was different. Carlos, sweet, perfect and lovely Carlos, had breathed new life into Night Vale and into him. He was strange. He obsessed about science and was puzzled by the simplest things (the fact that clocks don’t exist, the portal interrupting the PTA meeting, etc.) but he was so loveable and patient and he embraced the weirdness that was Night Vale as though he had been born and raised there. Was it any wonder that he had fallen hard and instantly over him?

The door burst open.

Cecil had expected station management. Crying on the air wasn’t dignified and would surely cost him his job. But it wasn’t station management. It was Intern Dana. Tears streaked Intern Dana’s face but a smile was present. She had a new piece of paper in her hands.

 _HE’S ALIVE!_ Was written in large bold loopy lettering. Cecil wiped away his tears.

“Where is he?” Cecil gasped out.

“Night Vale General Hospital.” She said beaming. Cecil stood up immediately but was held back for a second.

The daily broadcast. He still had to-but surely station management would understand? It _was_ Carlos after all.

“They’ve given the greenlight.” Intern Dana said, sensing Cecil’s worry. “I’m covering for you. Go.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou.” Cecil said as he rushed out of his booth, grabbing his jacket, and running to his car.

Intern Dana took Cecil’s seat in the booth. She adjusted the seat, put on the headphones, and brought the microphone down to her height.

“Good afternoon dear listeners. This is Intern Dana coming to you live. We have received your calls concerning the well-being of local celebrity and resident Carlos the Scientist. In complying with your requests, we are bringing to you a new segment in our daily broadcast. It is called “The Scientist and the Radio Host”.

* * *

 

Cecil broke all the speeding limits on his way to the hospital. The Sheriff’s secret police couldn’t stop him even if they tried.He could see the hospital in the distance. He was so close. Upon reaching the parking lot, Cecil jump out (did he even lock his car?) and ran inside. The hospital wasn’t very big.

It didn’t take long to find the room where Carlos was in. There was a small crowd outside. The hooded figures were there as was Old Woman Josie and her angels who most certainly did not exist.

“How is he?” Cecil breathlessly asked.

_Banged up_

The words form in Cecil’s mind but he didn’t think of them. It was the hooded figures who upon closer inspection were still wearing bowling shoes.

_Yes. We were there._

Once more the words came into Cecil’s mind.

“The poor baby has been asking for you.” Old Woman Josie said. Her angels nodded in agreement. They stood guard by the door and threateningly stared down anyone who wasn’t part of the group.

_We thought we should stay until you got here. It didn’t feel right to leave him alone._

“Thank you.” Cecil said gratefully.

_Don’t mention it._

“We’ll leave him in your capable hands, dear.” Old Woman Josie patted Cecil’s arm. “Let us know how he’s recovering later, okay?”

“Okay…” He’s too overwhelmed with gratefulness and happiness that Carlos isn’t dead.

_Take it easy man._

“Thank you all so much.”

The hooded figures and Old Woman Josie and her angels left. Cecil turned to the room where Carlos was in. The blinds were down. Nothing could be seen inside. Quietly, Cecil pushed the slide door away. Inside the room, there was a large single bed. Laid out, looking unnaturally pale was his dear sweet Carlos.

It was an awful sight to see Carlos like this. There were so many wires and tubes coming in and out of him. It dehumanized him. There is a lump in Cecil’s throat and it blocked all forms of speech from him. What could he say in this situation? Wordlessly, Cecil maneuvers around the bulky bed to the left side of it where there’s a chair for any visitors. Cecil sits down in the uncomfortable chair. His hand reaches for Carlos’.

Carlos’ hand is strangely cold but the pulse that comes from it is so reassuring that Cecil embraces it. He never wants to let go of Carlos again.

“Cecil…?” Carlos mumbled. His eyes trying to focus on the blurry figure to his right. “Cec?” His voice grew frantic. The heart monitor picks up it’s pace. “ _Cecil?_ ”

“Shh…” He whispered. “It’s me…” Cecil carefully hugged Carlos. “I’m right here.”

“Oh.” Carlos smiled weakly. He nuzzled against the radio host’s neck. It was a sensation that Cecil sorely missed. “I thought I would never see you again.”

Cecil could only sigh as fresh tears formed once more. “Same here my perfect Carlos.” He murmured into Carlos’ ear. “Try to get some sleep.”

“Can’t.” Carlos said, his voice was strained. “Nightmares. Tiny people and rockets.”

Carlos didn’t have to say any more. Slowly, Cecil lifted himself into the bed. Carlos relaxed instantly when he left Cecil’s much warmer body against his. Cecil’s tentacles made an appearance as they normally did when they cuddled. His tentacles delicately wrapped around Carlos waist and legs, bringing him into a tentacle encased cocoon. The tentacles stopped at Carlos’ chest. There were too many wires and heavy bandages there. They were afraid that the slightest touch might produce more trauma.  

But for now, everything was good and they were okay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am 95% sure that the hooded figures are teenagers. They wear hoods, are generally antisocial, and like eating pizza. I’m willing to bet that they are pretty nice people when you get to know them. I don’t know if it’s true canon wise, I’m only one episode nine, but whatever.


End file.
